


In The Middle

by TauntedOctopi



Series: Eridium Tier Content [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blood Kink, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, F/M, Gunplay, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religious Fanaticism, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21583012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TauntedOctopi/pseuds/TauntedOctopi
Summary: You are one of Troy's favorites, sent to seduce a captive Zane for information. Troy decides he can't just watch it out and share.Shameless threesome smut.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Original Character(s), Troy Calypso/You, Zane Flynt/Original Female Character/Troy Calypso, Zane Flynt/You
Series: Eridium Tier Content [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550542
Kudos: 79





	In The Middle

When you were chosen for this particular task, you were at first uncertain. You were one of Troy's favorites, one of the Holy Devoted, an inner circle of the God King's favorite lovers, servants, bodyguards... you were one of them. 

When he had told you he wanted you to seduce the captured vault thief for information, you had been reluctant. You were devoted to your god, and it felt like heresy. It had taken a lot of gentle coaxing, the promise of praise and a further position in his esteem, to convince you. 

Once actually faced with your target, though, your concern had faded, so fast in fact that you were almost shocked. 

He was a little cut up and bruised, stripped of his weapons and tech, sitting on the bed provided to him. All things considered it wasn't a bad room. He had to be at least twice your age, but still in damn good shape. Blonde hair faded to silver in parts, one blue eye, one golden cybernetic surveying you with a mixture of interest and appraisal. He was shirtless, and a reasonably deep cut on his shoulder was bleeding sluggishly. 

The acolyte who had brought you shoved a medical kit into your hands. 

"A gift from the God King." From the way the acolyte was speaking, it was very clear he didn't think prisoners should be given gifts, let alone one who was so prized. 

You waited til the door was closed and bolted behind you. You wondered if Troy was watching through the two way mirror on the south wall by the door. Somehow, you liked that idea. 

"So what's your deal?" The prisoner- the vault thief, Troy called him - surveyed you with mismatched eyes as you opened the medical kit and set to work cleaning the gashes on his shoulder. Had he been tortured? You weren't sure. 

You wouldn't have spoken to him, had you not been given your instructions. 

"I'm one of the Holy Devoted." 

"'S that mean?" He had a strange accent, you decided, different from most people on Pandora. It was not unpleasant, but you were used to Troy, you supposed. 

"The God King has favorites." 

"And he sent one to clean me up, huh?" 

"The Twin Gods don't want war with you. They think you would be much more use if we were all on the same side." This much was true, Troy had told you so himself. He often told you things, little pieces of information. He trusted you to keep his secrets.

The vault thief huffed.   
"Ain't gonna happen. Not the culty bastard type, myself." 

You sighed. You had expected that, of course, but it was still disappointing to hear. The Twin Gods had saved you, your entire clan. You couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to join their cause. 

"Nobody said you had to join up. Just... work with us." 

"I don't even know your name, girly, and you're trying to convince me to... what? Betray the good people I'm with?" 

You were not allowed to tell him your name. Nobody called the Devoted by their real names but Troy, you all had nicknames for each other and limited social usage. 

"I don't know yours," you countered, dabbing alcohol along the jagged wound on his shoulder. To his credit, he did not wince. 

"Zane. Zane Flynt. Surprised they didn't tell you that one." He was playing with you, there. 

"I have a job to do." You frowned, "does it matter what a vault thief is named?" 

You did like his name, though. You had had a name once, a first name and a last name, before Troy had chosen a new one. You wondered what would have become of you, had the COV not found you. 

"S'pose not. You just here to clean up the mess, then?" 

"The God King is surprised you haven't cracked yet. He admires your courage." You set the medical kit aside, tilt your head and survey the prisoner. "He wants you to be comfortable. I'm here to help that." 

As you finish the sentence, you straddle him, eyeing him curiously. 

If Zane is remotely annoyed or uncomfortable with being sent one of the God King's favorite whores, he doesn't show it. He's got enough pent up frustration and tension that honestly, he could go a good hard fuck to work it all out. As far as he can tell, you're not uncomfortable with the situation. Far from it, in fact. 

You haven't been with anyone but Troy for so long, you'd almost forgotten what anyone else really feels like. Touching someone else, looking at someone else, it feels foreign but not unpleasant. 

He watches you watching him for a moment. If there's one thing Zane loves, it's pissing off his enemies. He has a sneaking suspicion Troy is watching all this, either on cameras or through the double sided mirror. If you're one of his favorites, what better way to get to the so called God King than via his ego? The vault hunter might have at least twenty years on Troy, but he'd be willing to bet he can make you scream just as loud. One way to find out. 

Nice of him, Zane thinks as his hands plant on your hips, to send such a pretty face. No amount of sex will make him talk, but he'll take what he can before he eventually gets the hell out of here. 

When he kisses you, your first instinct is to pull away. You're used to Troy, all bites and growls and demanding. This is different. Entirely. He's still demanding, but there's a different approach in the way he does it, tongue slipping into your mouth with practised ease, coaxing a surprised moan out of you. 

He hadn't expected you to be so damn receptive. There's a small part of his brain on high alert, half expecting you to cut his throat while he's distracted or something, but you're so damn helpless, he's pretty sure you aren't a threat. 

You let him kiss you for a few moments, mostly because you're too dazed to think straight. It's nice to be kissed like this, still demanding but with none of the aggression you're used to. You can't let yourself get distracted. 

Breaking the kiss, you slide off his lap onto your knees between his legs. Now there's a sight he'll never get tired of. Vault hunting has taken up the vast majority of his time, this war with the COV. Zane genuinely can't remember the last time he actually got sucked off, and yet here you are, settled comfortably between his legs, fingers skimming across the bulge in his pants, finding the zip... 

A low grunt of approval forms in his throat as you lick a lazy stripe from base to tip of his hardening length, sucking lazily on the tip. You've had a LOT of practise; Troy likes making you sit under his desk and suck him off while he's editing, metal hand working on the screen, flesh hand curled into your hair. 

He's different to Troy, curved a little differently. Not quite as big, but that's to be expected. Troy is ridiculously tall and everything's in proportion. Still, you're more than happy to work with what he's got. 

Zane isn't sure what game the COV are trying to play, sending you in here. If he had any sort of weapon, he might have held it to your head, made you get him off, then tell him what the deal was. Unfortunate. The idea of you sucking on the barrel of his favorite pistol the way you were currently sucking on his cock made him painfully hard, a fact that did not escape your notice. 

"What's on your mind, vault thief?" 

He could feel your warm breath tickling his sensitive skin as you spoke. God, you sounded like Tyreen, indoctrinated into the COV mindset. He knew he was probably taking advantage of you somehow, but he didn't care. If you were so valuable to Troy, he wouldn't put you at risk, surely. 

"A little of this, a little of that," absently, his fingers thread into your hair, guiding your mouth back to him. You're more than happy to comply, he's so much gentler with you than Troy. That feels like heresy to even think, but it's true. Even so, you wish he was here, too. It doesn't feel right to be doing this sort of thing without him. Still, you have a job to do, and you will not disappoint the God King. 

He lets you go for a few minutes, occasionally swearing or moaning softly as your tongue works around him slowly; he doesn't seem to mind you taking your time. 

"Get up here." 

Following orders? Definitely something you can do. Scrambling to your feet you stand before him, waiting. 

"Get undressed." Lust and adrenaline are making him an idiot, a little bit short in words, but he's not exactly thinking with his brain right now. You strip down, leaving him staring at you. You're almost uncomfortable under the intensity of his gaze. 

You're beautiful, that's for sure, but it's the marks on your body that make Zane hesitate. Your hips, your collarbone, just above your breast, bitemark shaped scars decorate your skin. Marks of ownership from Troy. The vault symbol branded onto your hip marks you as one of the Devoted. 

"What are you looking at?" You almost snap at him; you're proud of your scars, badges of honor among your kind. You don't expect some vault thief to understand, don't want his judgement or pity of all things. 

"Nothing. Sorry." He stands, facing you, turns you so your back is to the bed. He almost wants to tell you to stop, seeing the state of you, but you don't seem bothered by the marks all over you, and god, he's still painfully hard and you're standing right there, wanting and willing... 

"On your back." 

You do as you're told, oddly reassured by the weight of him on top of you. He starts to kiss you again, along your jaw, down your throat, tongue trailing between your breasts lazily, a hand slipping between your legs. 

"Jesus," he breathes out; he hadn't been expecting to find you so ready for him. 

"Gonna stop fucking around now?" You glare at him, taunting. If Troy hadn't needed you to do this... you'd like to convince yourself you'd never let a vault thief touch you, but you're not sure that's the truth. He's not what you expected. Oh sure, he's violent and dangerous and clearly an enemy, but there's a deep level of tension between you as he frowns, pins your hands above your head with one hand, using his free hand to guide himself to your entrance. 

He drags the aching head of his cock along your wetness, desperately resisting the urge to just slam into you. He knows you can probably take it, but he's not exactly violent when it comes to sex. He likes risks, likes it dirty, but never violent. With that in mind, he takes his time slipping inside you, now free hand gripping your waist, adjusting to a better angle. 

You can't help it. You moan. He feels so different to Troy, and the difference makes it intoxicating. His hand settles into a comfortable grip on your hip as he slowly rocks into you, getting you used to him. 

"Real sweet," a familiar, lazy voice drawls from the doorway. You hadn't even heard Troy come in. "You'll never get her off like that though." 

Zane glares over his shoulder at the so called God King, leaning against the wall with a smirk of amusement in place. 

"Don't stop on my account though." Troy shrugs off his heavy coat, tosses it carelessly onto a chair, "I was enjoying the show." 

"Fuck are you playing at?" Zane isn't fussed about being watched; Troy is unarmed, so he sees no point in stopping what he was doing, especially considering how nice and warm you were around him. 

Troy shrugs, almost saunters over to the pair of you. 

"I don't share well with others." His flesh hand reaches out to stroke your cheek, "especially not this one. And besides, like I said. You're doing it wrong."

Zane scowls. 

"I've got at least twenty years on you. I think I know how to fuck someone properly." 

Troy's smirk widens. 

"A truce then. Perhaps we can learn from each other." 

Ah what the hell, it's not the weirdest threesome proposition Zane has ever had. 

"What do you have in mind?" 

"Move." The authority in Troy's voice is palpable, enough to make Zane curious, so he pulls out of you and rolls aside slightly. 

Familiar mismatched hands grip your waist, flip you onto your front. You're used to this. 

"In her mouth." 

Neither you nor Zane have a complaint about that; you take him into your mouth eagerly, waiting for the reward of Troy touching you properly. 

"You're doing well," the God King purrs into your ear, "let's show our guest how good you can be, hm?" 

You make a low hum of agreement around Zane. 

"Good." Troy sinks his teeth into your shoulderblade, gold incisors piercing your skin with ease. Your moan of pain and pleasure is muffled by Zane's cock; his hand finds your hair, petting at it as he fucks your mouth. 

Troy's tongue traces blood droplets down your shoulder, licking at each trace like a hungry beast. Half his potential Devoted can't handle the biting. You seem to be made for it. As he licks at your wound, his flesh hand strokes his aching cock. How long had he stood there at the window, watching you with the vault thief, possessive and jealous until he could bear it no longer, slamming into the room with a vengeance. You were his, dammit, some pretty boy vault thief wasn't going to change that. 

He's a lot rougher in how he enters you; lining himself up, he holds your thighs apart and slams into you in one movement. You cry out, almost choking. 

"Bit rough, ain't it?" Zane raises an eyebrow, even in this state he's not sure that was necessary. 

Troy snorts. "She's fine. Move." 

Zane pulls out of your mouth, sits back on his knees and watches as Troy lifts you, pressing your back against his chest, fucking up into you roughly. He can't help it; watching, he strokes himself slowly, trying to keep rythym with you and Troy. 

You close your eyes; you know what's coming. Sure enough, when sharpened teeth sink into your throat, you're ready for it. Warm blood drips along your collarbone, down your neck, between your breasts. Troy's tongue trails after it, as far as he can in this position anyway, pace increasing with each sharp snap of his hips. 

Impulsively, Zane closes the distance between you, licks the trail of blood between your breasts, pausing here and there to suck on each nipple appreciatively. You moan, curl your hands into his hair to pull him closer. 

"Do you want her mouth, or her ass?" Troy asks almost conversationally, "she's used to both so take your pick." 

While this is definitely a strange situation, Zane is happy to just roll with it. There's something about the danger of it all, the fucked upness of doing this with an enemy, it gets him going. 

His answer is drowned by your helpless moan as Troy bites down on your already open wound again, licks greedily at the blood that forms. He loves absolutely ruining you then taking care of you after, but that second part isn't common knowledge. What are you to him, but a useful, favored piece of flesh? 

Clearly, Troy must have heard the answer, because he pulls out of you, turns you around so you're facing him, and enters you again in another sharp snap of his hips. He often makes you bleed, but you don't care. How can you, when you're being fucked by a god? 

Zane takes his time making sure you're ready for him; he has no interest in hurting you, not like this anyway. If he had a gun, a knife, maybe. But not in any way you wouldn't like. 

Deeming you ready for him, he waits for Troy to pause, keeping you steady on his lap, lazily circling his hips to keep you wanting. 

"Together, then, vault thief?" 

"Don't see why not." The pair nod at each other, then enter you in unison, smooth fluid movements. You feel full, almost painfully so, but it's not unpleasant. You're used to Troy taking his pick of where and how he wants to fuck you, but you've never taken two people at once. 

"Hold her." Zane pants, hands gripping your waist as he bucks up into you slowly, finding a rhythm that feels good and doesn't hurt. 

Troy hums amusement, watching you loll against his chest in eager overstimulation. His flesh hand settles on your back, between you and Zane's chest, keeping you steady against him as he, too, starts to move again. 

It feels so different, so overwhelming, to have both of them inside you at once. You fast become dazed, only dimly aware of anything beyond the deep ache starting to form inside you that preludes climax, the event itself, and repeat. How many times do you release around them? You aren't sure. 

"She's close again," Troy warns, "personally I like when she ragdolls, but if you want any sort of response out of her, I'd get it now." 

Zane mutters something obscene, kisses the bite mark Troy left on you. Your blood stains his lips, but he doesn't give a damn. All that matters is your breathy moans, the building ache in his cock as he fucks you, hard and deep, holding you in place. You scream out a strangled moan, tightening painfully around Troy, your release adding to the delicious wetness enveloping him. 

He curses, rolling his hips into you as he comes, barely managing to pull out of you before spilling onto your back and the silk sheets. 

"Fuck." He rolls to the side, breathing heavily, watching you and Troy with a lustful expression. 

Troy's hands grip your ass, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you at a much deeper, rougher pace. You've done so well for him, it's far more likely the vault thief will talk now, and god do you look so beautiful right now, covered in bruises and your own blood, make up running down your face from tears of pleasure and pain combined. 

"So fucking good for me," he growls into your ear, pressing you down into the bed, hooking your leg around his good arm, bracing himself with the cybernetic. "You've done so, so well." He kisses the vault brand on your hip, kisses his way back up your body, holding you in place. 

He growls again at your whimpers and little moans, buries his face into your uninjured collarbone to muffle the strangled cry of release as he slams into you again, spilling inside you. 

"Heh," Zane is zipping his pants up, sitting on the side of the bed, watching you both. "I still made her scream louder." 

Troy snorts. "Whatever you say, vault thief." He pulls out of you, licks your blood from his lips. His mouth is smeared with it; the bites will need a medical kit to heal, probably. 

Tugging his own clothes back on, Troy waits for you to shakily dress. He'll carry you back to his room, treat your wounds, let you sleep and shower you in praise. But certain fronts must be kept up in front of the prisoner. 

"Can't say that was a bad time, though," Zane grins as you head towards the door. 

"Don't get used to it." Troy warns, "I doubt I'll share her again." 

"Wouldn't expect it. Worried I'll steal her away?" 

"I keep close tabs on what's mine," Troy counters, blue eyes cold as he follows you from the room. 

Zane grins to himself. He still won't tell the COV a damn thing, but well, he's certainly not complaining about how this went. Judging from Troy's reaction, he got under his skin too. Good. 

Sighing, he reclined back on the tangled bedsheets. May as well get some sleep and hope they send you back after the next beating. Doubtful, but a man can hope. 

The bathtub is already steaming when Troy carries you into his private rooms. He's surprisingly gentle as he helps you undress, into the tub. 

"You did so well for me," the God King kisses your tangled hair as soon as you manage to climb out again, blissfully clean, "so well."

"Do you think he'll talk?" You're so exhausted and yet intrigued by the vault thief who had been so gentle with you, had kissed you so demandingly but with a tenderness. You dried yourself with a soft towel, too exhausted to redress. 

"Perhaps," Troy shrugged, lifting you into his arms again, carrying you to his wonderfully soft bed. "Don't concern yourself with that now. Just sleep." 

You do, blissful at pleasing your god.


End file.
